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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30097920">cuddle weather</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolishrose/pseuds/foolishrose'>foolishrose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stargate SG-1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling, Fluff, Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:34:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30097920</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolishrose/pseuds/foolishrose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack hates being left out. Especially when it's below freezing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Samantha "Sam" Carter/Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill/Teal'c</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>cuddle weather</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Posting this at 4 AM b/c I'm unemployed and time is meaningless </p><p>Some emphasis on Daniel/Jack in the beginning, but don't worry, everyone is included. My first SG-1 fic. I'm 20 years late to the party. Enjoy! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cold. So cold. Really god-damn cold. All three in their parkas and knit caps, Sam, Teal'c, and Daniel sat on one of the plastic equipment crates, huddled together under a wool blanket. They observed silently as Jack lit the campstove and put on two cans of B-rations. He warmed his hands over the little blue flame and got up. He took the other crate, with a blanket all to himself, thank you very much. Felt like sitting on an igloo.</p><p>Jack checked his watch. Had it only been six hours? They'd suffered longer on harsher planets. Didn't feel like it, but they had. This camp spot wasn't so bad, really, harbored between the tarp and a wall of pines—certainly better than trudging uphill, ankle-deep in powder—but the sun (if you could call that shiny smudge in the clouds a sun) peaked hours ago. Now the trees put them in shadow. The western sky, or east, or whatever, turned rosy. Good call on Carter's part, pitching camp first thing, before they even tried to break out the UAV.</p><p>Beyond the tarp-shelter, snow came down slow and feathery. Jack had flown in worse conditions; but the UAV sensors were useless in this weather and it'd only get worse further up the mountain. They'd have to wait it out. Nightfall would be fun.</p><p>"If we're lucky, it'll keep coming down like this and they'll have to cancel school," Jack said. The silence made him uncomfortable. No one reacted. Too cold to talk, apparently. Even Teal'c was abnormally laconic today. All three stared zombielike at the stove. Say what they would about SG-1, but no meal ever came to harm under these guys's vigilant guard.</p><p>"Didn't you kids ever hear the saying? A watched pot of unitized group rations never boils."</p><p>No response. Only Sam glanced at him, belatedly, before returning to the thrawl of the—well, the can said chili con carne, but you could never be sure.</p><p>Wind gusted against the tarp. Snow swirled into camp. Jack leaned forward to protect the flame. Daniel's teeth began to chatter. He lifted the blanket over his nose and pressed his cheek to Teal'c's arm. </p><p>"Did anyone consider booking this trip for summer—spring break, maybe?" Jack said.</p><p>"This is summer, sir," said Carter. "According to the MALP. So far as we know, this is as tropical as it gets."</p><p>"Lovely. We should open a ski resort. Real snow, year-round. We'd make a killing. We could quit the service. Retire up here. A big ole mountain lodge for each of us."</p><p>"I believe our dinner is ready for consumption," said Teal'c, his attention loyal to the campstove. He moved to get up. Daniel groaned in protest, his face still burrowed against the Jaffa-portable-heater.</p><p>"I got it." Jack shed his blanket and crouched in front of the mess tin. He spooned the chili around—not exactly piping hot but it'd do. The faster they ate, the faster they called it a night, the faster they'd wake up and leave this frozen dump. He poured four servings and passed them around. "Chef's special."</p><p>They each grabbed at their bowls wordlessly. Sam didn't even bother using her spoon for the first bite, just drank it down. Daniel's glasses steamed up as he ate; he didn't notice or didn't care. Teal'c devoured spoonfuls in quick succession. "You're welcome," Jack said, retaking his private crate-seat.</p><p>The hot meal pinkened all three sets of lips across from Jack—matched their cold-bitten noses and cheeks. Daniel licked a rogue grain of rice from the corner of his mouth. Carter took a break from eating and laid her head on Teal'c shoulder. Jack hunched over his bowl and let the steam roll across his face. Mm. Like a sauna.</p><p>"It's kind of beautiful here. Picturesque," said Daniel, gazing skyward, once dinner had defrosted him. Miles away, above the white hills and craggy treeline, loomed the icy peak of Mount P7J-220. The snow had let up, but the clouds darkened with each passing moment.</p><p>"And yet, I don't think we'll be getting tourists here any time soon," said Jack. "Ski lodge or naught."</p><p>Daniel yawned. "We should move into the tents soon."</p><p>"I call Teal'c," said Carter.</p><p>"What? No fair." Daniel leaned forward to look her in the eye. "Sam, please. You know I can't stand the cold. I'm still on Abydos temperature."</p><p>"How long are you going to use that excuse? Besides, I called dibs. Those are the rules. Right, Teal'c?"</p><p>"That is the unwritten law of laying claim, as I understand it," said Teal'c.</p><p>"C'mon, Daniel. I don't keep things warm enough for you?" Jack said playfully. Daniel didn't reciprocate.</p><p>"No, you don't," he said, and lowered his head for more chili. Jack's heart sunk a little.</p><p>Teal'c finished his meal first, then Carter, then Daniel. Jack collected their tins and rinsed them off in the snow. Carter cleaned up the cookware. Daniel and Teal'c moved the crate they'd been sitting on between the tents for weather-guarding, before Daniel's teeth started chattering again. With a quick apology he took the XL blanket and one of the electric heat lamps and escaped into a tent. Jack didn't say anything, but he'd picked the one upwind.</p><p>Jack helped Teal'c with the remaining two crates and tarped them down; whether this was to protect the equipment or their shelter he couldn't guess. He knew certainly which was more valuable. Carter moved their packs and extra blankets into the tents. Night turned rapidly; cloudy, colorless, cold. When everything was settled Teal'c and Carter went into their tent. Jack gave the camp another going-over, tested the stakes on both tents, made sure the equipment crates were sealed, before zipping himself into the tent's warm embrace.</p><p>The heat thawed his face like an oven. The rush of cold air woke Daniel and his teeth chattered their disapproval. He was already buried in his sleeping bag and blanket, swaddled up to his eyes, more burrito-shaped than human. Jack threw off his coat and boots and sat down on his sleeping bag, feet next to the heat lamp. "It's—so—cold—," Daniel muttered, still playing percussion on his molars.</p><p>Jack wanted to crawl up next to him. Sharing a little body heat wouldn't be out of the question, especially tonight—but what the hell would he say? He couldn't imagine that going well: pressed together in the sleeping bag, legs entwining, Daniel's breath on his skin.</p><p>"Good night." Jack pulled himself into his bag, an arm's length between them, and zipped it up to his nose. Not bad, he thought, with the lamp sunning his face, the rest of him cocooned in double fleece and the best USAF thermotechnology. Kind of cozy, actually.</p><p>He fell asleep and woke up feeling like a block of ice. Wind battered the tent; the heat lamp had gone dim; and Daniel wasn't in his sleeping bag. Jack sat up. At the front of the tent were Daniel's belt, vest, side-arm, and backpack, all there. His shoes and coat were missing—and he left the lamp. If he'd gone out for a leak he'd have taken a light. Jack leaned over and felt around the sleeping bag. Cold. He'd been gone a while. Dammit. He checked if Daniel's radio and flashlight were still in his pack. They were.</p><p>Daniel wouldn't have been so stupid as to wander off, weaponless, without a light or a radio—right? God damn, it was cold. Jack rifled his pockets for fresh batteries; he remembered ordering somebody to pack more than logistics called for, but he hadn't grabbed any for himself. The way those heaters drained power you'd think they were fueling a rocket. They probably got stowed away in one of the crates. God damn it.</p><p>Jack got up and pulled on his parka, vest, belt, hat, boots, checked his M9, all the while swearing under his breath. His fingers turned to icicles as he tied his laces. The heat lamp flickered when he picked it up. He really hoped this wasn't another of Daniel's ill-timed solo missions.</p><p>Snow flurried through the camp. Wind howled down the mountain and through the trees. The swishing pines sounded like a slow-rolling surf—if only. Fuck, was it cold; and pitch-black; and so damn cold. His nosehairs bristled. One corner of the tarp flopped up and down, loose from its stake. That explained their tent taking the brunt of the wind. Jack set down the lamp and triple-knotted it back in place. Otherwise their set-up seemed to be doing the job. The trees and the tarp deflected most of the snowfall. The crates were lightly dusted. If they were lucky they'd have less than a foot or two to dig out in the morning.</p><p>Daniel's tracks, fresher than the others, led behind the tents and into the treeline—trip to the boys' room, as Jack suspected—but he hadn't returned on the same path. The tracks circled the other way round camp. Jack followed them intently—right up to the entrance of Teal'c and Carter's tent. For crying out loud.</p><p>Their heat lamp appeared to be working fine. The tent glowed from within, flame-colored and bright. Jack crassly unzipped the tent and ducked in. Sure enough there lay three heads: blond, brown, and bald. They nestled close together, Daniel in the middle, Sam's face against his chest, Teal'c spooning him. The heat lamp sat at their feet, emitting heavenly warmth, shrouding them in gentle red light. Jack zipped the tent up loudly.</p><p>Teal'c lifted his head. "Colonel O'Neill," he whispered.</p><p>"I was looking for Daniel," Jack said. "Making sure he didn't get himself—abducted, or something." He stooped his neck, awkwardly pinned down by the tent roof.</p><p>They had a pretty nice arrangement in here. The sleeping bags had been spread out for cushioning, rolled at one end for pillowing. Daniel's foot stuck out near the heater. No socks. The blankets didn't even cover their shoulders. Must've been downright toasty under there.</p><p>"Your heat lamp is low on power," Teal'c said. It flickered at Jack's side. "There is a spare pack of 9-volt batteries in the breast pocket of Major Carter's vest." He gestured to a pile of discarded clothing at Jack's left. Carter's vest sat neatly folded atop her parka and backpack. Daniel evidently threw his off in haste. His parka sat crumpled in the opposite corner. One boot laid on its side, wet with snowmelt.</p><p>Jack shrugged. "Y'know, there's no sense burning out two of these lamps, is there?"</p><p>Teal'c smirked in that subtle Jaffa way that Jack hated so much. "There is always room for one more," he said.</p><p>Jack turned off the lamp and put it down. Teal'c watched as he disarmed and pulled off his outerwear. He placed his things next to Carter's, away from the heater and Daniel's wet shoes. "This is just to save on those damn batteries. We don't know how cold it's gonna be tomorrow."</p><p>"Major Carter estimates a high of negative-seven-degrees Celsius."</p><p>"Shut up."</p><p>Jack hated to wake them—Sam and Daniel looked so peaceful, dead asleep, and intimate—but he wanted even less to return to his lonely tent. He laid down next to Carter and slid delicately under the blanket. Her heat enveloped him, loosening tense muscles. He turned on his side, worming his way closer, doing his best not to disturb the nest. Daniel's face lay directly in his sight, half visible over Carter's head, brown lashes resting on his cheek, mouth ajar, utterly asleep. Teal'c was settling down again to sleep—meditate—whatever. Jack had never seen his meditation thing done horizontal. Was he lying there just for Daniel and Carter's sake?</p><p>A sliver of Carter's pale arm lay exposed, between her sleeve and the hem of the blanket. He considered putting his arm around her. Maybe nuzzling his face in her hair. Once his hands warmed up, he curiously, carefully, stroked her arm. Hot to the touch. He inched closer until his chest touched her back. All in the name of avoiding frostbite. Survival 101. Wasn't anything Carter herself wouldn't do.</p><p>She stirred, moaned, yawned, and peeked sleepy-eyed over her shoulder. "Sir?"</p><p>"My heater went out. And you stole Daniel."</p><p>She raised a palm to his forehead. "You're cold." She turned over, untangling herself from Daniel, dragging the covers with her, and wrapped Jack in a hug. Her hair tickled his neck.</p><p>Daniel woke displeased. "Sam?"</p><p>"Colonel's cold," she mumbled.</p><p>Briefly conscious, Daniel moved over to spoon her and relaxed again. Teal'c followed suit until they were again sandwiched together. Jack laid his hand over Daniel's, where it rested on Carter's hip. Warmth softened his mind and poured into his limbs, losing awareness of where the air did or didn't touch his skin, melting into Sam, into the blankets. His eyelids grew heavy until it seemed impossible to open them. The wonders of this universe never ceased. Even this arctic hellhole had its charms.</p><p>Teal'c whispered, "Are you sufficiently comfortable, O'Neill?"</p><p>"Oh, yeah," he whispered back. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please drop me some dopamine in the comments</p><p>👽</p></blockquote></div></div>
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